The Angel from Kanto
by ValhallaStarfire
Summary: Welcome to Medio City, a city where pokémon fans of all sorts gather to celebrate their shared love of pokémon. When a ranger finds out some interesting information, she develops a system for free healthcare - by sneaking the sickly into pokécenters via pokéballs and putting them onto the pokémon cure-all machine. Read along to find out what happens to her black market business.
1. The Poképark of Medio City

Chapter 1: The Poképark of Medio City

Welcome to Medio City, a city within a region just north of Hoenn. This city unites pokémon fans of all sorts. For trainers, the normal type gym leader, Lyle, awaits them. For pokémon fans trying to earn their ribbons, there's also a center for pokémon contests. Due to the fact that Lyle is also the mayor of Medio City, their pokécenters have the finest equipment in the area, and the pokémon daycare center just outside of the city is a huge success. This city is as pokémon crazy as they get.

The hottest spot of them all is at the hub of the city, just south of the gym. Here exists a poképark wildlife preserve, where pokémon live in their natural habitat and people are free to observe and appreciate them. Because of this, the poképark receives a lot of endangered pokémon, such as feebas, surskit, and pikachu. For the most part, people and pokémon coexist in the poképark just fine; but every so often, something upsets the balance and a pokémon starts running amok. This is where rangers, such as me, come in.

"Where did that little butthead go?" I said loud enough for my partner pokémon to hear me. I looked under some shrubs. "No butthead here," I said aloud. I looked under some rocks. "Still no butthead," I thought out loud. I stood up, scratched my head, and asked at a reasonable volume, "Where oh where has my butthead gone?" All of a sudden, a cold jet of water hit me on the head. Although the cool of the water felt pretty damn good on this hot summer day, the pressure of the water jet and the sudden scare I got from it weren't too refreshing. I turned around to find the culprit, a male wooper with a V-shaped mark on its chest. "Upa!" it let out with a vague smile on its face. "There you are, you little butthead," I smirked back, picking it up with a gloved hand and giving it a noogie with my free knuckle. The wooper let out a sound similar to a giggle and gave me another squirt on the cheek.

It was break time at the poképark, and my wooper (named Trooper, not butthead) and I were spending our free time playing a game of hide-n-seek. It wasn't long afterwards that our fun ended with a nearby scream of a woman. Since the scream sounded close enough to be in my area, I put down Trooper and we ran to where the call for help was. When I arrived at the scene, a girl who looked to be about sixteen was backed up against a tree. In the lake beside their now-ruined picnic, a gyarados was thrashing around; in its tail, it had an adolescent boy. I groaned a little because hostage situations require more fuss during a pokémon capture than they really need.

I whipped out my capture styler and pressed a button on the side. "This is Koizumi. We have a 450 in area D3. I repeat, we have a 450 in area D3, over," I warned everyone else via the walkie-talkie feature on my styler. "Trooper, you focus on keeping that girl calm. I'll see if I can calm this beast down a little." I ordered my wooper as I set the styler settings to gyarados. Then, I turned on my baton and went straight to work. The top shot out of the bottom compartment and made its way toward the upset gyarados. I rotated my wrist and formed a circle in the air in front of me, the top spinning in sync with my movements. As the top made its way around the gyarados, a glowing blue light trailed from it. From the rings, a frequency resonated. These frequencies, Professor Hastings claimed, matched the kind that pacified certain types of pokémon. When the vibrations that surrounded the gyarados reached its ears, the rampaging pokémon started to calm down a little. By about fifteen more rotations, the gyarados dropped the boy back into the water and swam away. I was close enough to reach the boy, so I fussed about him while Trooper worked on calming down the still-shaken girl.

After checking the boy for any broken limbs or bad cuts, I used the styler to relay a message back to my team, "This is Koizumi. All clear in area D3. I repeat, all clear on D3, over." Not more than a minute later, another girl dressed in the ranger uniform arrived on the scene. With her, she had a basket of sugar-free cookies and lemonade, which she usually offered to any troubled visitors and rangers on the scene. "Hey, Haruka, you're just in time! I'm starving!" I shouted, excited to taste her cooking again. Slightly startled by my scream, she ran faster until she met with us.

"Hey, Koizumi," she replied after catching her breath. "I heard there was a code 450 over here." She looked around and focused her attention on the couple as they held each other. "Are they all right?"

"I just checked their vitals, and both are doing ok," I reassured her. "Besides," I turned around to see Trooper dancing while the couple laughed, "I think butthead is doing a great job calming them down."

Haruka giggled and answered, "Koizumi, you're so mean, calling your poor widdle wooper a butthead." She soon joined the trio and offered cookies and lemonade. The young couple each grabbed a couple cookies and a glass each while Haruka poured some lemonade from her pitcher. I took the liberty of taking her basket and keeping it out of Trooper's reach. Since he wasn't quite to my knee, all I really had to do was hold the basket up to my stomach to keep him from doing so. After about a few minutes, we all sat down and got right back to business. "Ok, Mr. Takada and Ms. Watanabe. Would you please describe to us what happened over here?"

The boy sighed and told us the story. "We were enjoying a nice little picnic in the poképark next to this lake. While we were talking, I decided to skip some rocks. At first things were ok, but then one of my rocks hit a magikarp that had just popped out of the water right in the eye. And then it swam away, so we thought things were good, but then this gyarados came up and grabbed me. I think I hit one of its babies or something. I'm so sorry. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong." The boy began to cry a little, and the girl held him tighter.

Haruka hushed the boy. "It's ok, dears. You didn't mean to. Sometimes bad things happen." She asked me for the basket back, grimacing at me as she watched me take five for myself, and offered the boy a cookie. After a few more minutes, we helped them pick up the mess that was left from the destroyed picnic and I left them with Haruka.

"Thank you very much, sir, for rescuing us," I heard from the distance. Though I do love a good thank you for doing my civil service to people, I was a bit bothered by her statement. Instead of bothering to correct her, I just sighed and left the thought to brood in my head.

The other rangers were right. I really do look like a boy in this uniform.


	2. This Not-so-Perfect Pokémon World

Chapter 2: This Not-so-Perfect Pokémon World

The rest of the day was pretty calm for the both of us. By the time it reached five p.m., I was ready to go home and watch the semifinalists compete in the national pokémon contests. I went to the locker room and changed into my day clothes: a loose tank top, some cargo shorts that went past my knees, and a pair of canvas sneakers. One of the new recruits nearly tattled on me until my breasts gave away the fact that I am actually a woman. I rolled my eyes and left the room with my pokémon ranger uniform stuffed into a duffle bag.

When I stepped out of ranger headquarters I called out, "Hey, butthead, it's time to go home!" Trooper, who had its head in a mud puddle, lifted its muddied face out of the puddle and followed alongside me.

"You know, you're gonna confuse the hell out of Trooper. He probably thinks his name is Butthead." I turned around and saw my pal bro honcho, Sasuke, at my right. He was changed into a white T-shirt that read "pokémon warfare" with a red circle-backslash through the middle. In his hand was a sign that read "you wouldn't force children to fight," written in permanent marker.

I let out a hearty chuckle at the thought, and Trooper looked up at me with his usual dense look. "Thanks, I needed that," I smiled. "My day had a little more action than I really care for."

"Yeah," he replied. "I heard about the 450 in your area." He shook his head and let out a sigh, "People can be so careless of other pokémon, and it just makes me sick." He started to get fired up. "Is it really that hard to think before you act? I mean really, people. We have a much bigger impact on our home than we…" he managed to rant aloud before I shushed him to a normal level of energy.

"Easy, boy. I know how easy it is for you to get fired up, especially before a protest. But you're at a ten, and we need you at a five." When I transferred to Medio City about two years ago, and he was just as fiery today as he was then. "Here, have a cookie," I said to him as I handed him one of the seven cookies that Haruka _didn't_ see me take. He took it and shoved about half of it into his mouth in a small fit of disgust.

With the partially-masticated cookie still in his mouth, he finished the rest and began to speak. "Hey, Natsumi. I forgot to ask! Are you planning on joining us at the protest gathering at the Pokémon Stadium?" he asked. "A lot of us here at the poképark are going by to protest about the mistreatment of pokémon and any voice that supports our cause is welcome." He tossed me a yellow T-shirt printed with the same symbol as his.

Just my luck, it was the same night that I planned to go watch the semifinals. "I'm sorry, Sasuke, but I forgot to record my show, and I really want to catch the pokémon contest semifinals tonight," I sighed, handing him back the T-shirt he had given me. "You know how much I love those."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it, and keep the shirt." He then proceeded to whip out a clipboard and pen from his bag. "In that case, will you please sign this petition supporting our cause?" I shrugged and signed the petition, partly because I don't really support pokémon battles, partly because I didn't have the heart to turn down his offer and make the happy little ball of energy sad. I bid him adieu, and Trooper and I headed back home.

The walk there wasn't too long for us, and Trooper was very good about staying by my side. My home lay west of the poképark, but the path I take isn't the safest one. On my walk home, the cityscape became dirtier and dirtier until I was in the slums. The area smelled of a dirty gym sock, and graffiti littered the walls. Along my way, I saw a frail boy with a rattata digging in the garbage. I passed by a "pokémon adoption center" where a shady man sat outside with pokémon in confinements much smaller than the regulations allow. Over in an alleyway, some underground Nuzlocke challenges were taking place. I quickly turned my head but memorized their location so I could alert the police later on. When the sound of strummed chords hit my ears, I knew I was approaching home. Soon, I was close enough to see a homeless guy strumming his guitar for spare change outside of the apartment complex, the same homeless guy that usually sat and played. I gave him 1000 yen and headed to the stairs of the building.

After climbing up the stairs and inserted my key into door 205. I took off my shoes at the entry way and made room on my floor for my duffle bag. Little Trooper hopped his way over to the kiddy pool I set up in our apartment. Feeling pretty hungry, I reached into the fridge, grabbed a rice ball for myself and some magikarp for Trooper, and sat myself at the heavily littered table. While Trooper ate happily ate from his bowl, I checked the time. The clock read 15:27, just before the semifinals were set to air. I turned on the TV, ready to watch the contestants show off their pokémon in the each contest.

As I watched these pokémon perform, I dreamed of a better world. I dreamed of a world where pokémon weren't forced to fight each other. I dreamed of a world where pokémon and humans played together and became companions for the old, young, and sickly. I dreamed of a world where humans have better things to do than pitting pokémon against each other for sport. I let out a deep sigh and pulled an old Polaroid photo from off the fridge. I thought back to when I lived in Pallet Town with my mom and dad. I remembered when I first started out as a pokémon trainer at the age of ten, and the moments that led me to where I was today.

Suddenly, I felt a vibration in my pants pocket. I reached inside and pulled out my cell phone. The screen flashed and the words "new text message" accompanied an envelope on my screen. The text was from a good friend and it read "hey".

I texted back "sup". From there, the conversation went like this.

"nm u?"

"same just watchin pkmn con"

"ic u hungry?"

"kinda wat u thinkin?"

"totes crvin soba. wbu?

"sounds gr8 :)"

"kk meet me matsudas by 7?"

"sure" I replied as I called Trooper over, put on my shoes, and walked out the door.


	3. A New Kind of Pokéball

Chapter 3: A New Kind of Pokéball

I was so excited to see my friend Mimi Amaya at Matsuda's soba stand. It feels like it's been forever since I've eaten there, and the stories I hear from her are the juiciest of the juicy. It helps a bit that she's on the police force, so I get to hear a lot of things from her that I probably shouldn't even know. Honestly, though, she's so cute and bubbly, it makes me sick, and I love it. With a big smile on my face, I sent Trooper to his pokéball and lightly jogged from my apartment to the downtown district of Medio City, just south of the poképark.

Downtown Medio City was as lively as ever that night. Many of the pokémon-themed restaurants were packed with pokéfans eagerly watching the semifinals. I checked my phone for the time. It was about 6:50, a few minutes after the cute contest started. About five minutes later the soba stand, a small stand approximately big enough for seven people. The owner, Ieyasu Matsuda, has owned it since the seventies and makes the best soba to this day. Due to its location, the stand is frequented mostly by locals, and Matsuda knows my friend and me very well, even though we have only been here for about two years.

When I got there, there were only two other people there, one of them being Mimi (which made it perfect for gossip). I let out a shout, "Hey, Mimi! Long time no see!" and picked up the pace.

Mimi turned her head, smiling. "Hey! Yeah, I'm sorry. With work and all, things have been pretty cramped. Also, I was about to eat soba without you."

As soon as I got to the stand, I pulled up a stool beside her and sat myself with my legs open next to Mimi. "Well, you're nice," I spat jokingly. I soon motioned the chef over and asked for some soba.

"I'm super nice!" she responded, sticking her tongue out at me. "So how's the Poke-park, busy?" She turned to quickly ask for soba, and then moved her head to look to her friend.

"Eh, things aren't too terribly busy there, except for the 450 that was in my area." She shook her head.

"Well, I'm sure with your skill, you got it done well, eh? My team almost got taken down because of some renegade thugs. Honestly, No one ever listens to me." Mimi sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

I let out an exasperated sigh. "I remember when I first arrived here at Medio City, I had a similar experience," I said as I thought back to when I first got here. I shrugged my shoulders. "After enough time, it'll sink in."

"Everyone laughs at me because I'm short! Like, I'm tall enough to kick them in the balls. I knew transferring wasn't the best idea." She looks down to her cap that she placed on the table, sighing again. "So how's Butt- I mean Trooper? "

"I got you doing it!" I howled with laughter and slapped my thigh. "Butthead's doing great! Actually," I said, gesturing to my pokéball, "since my neck of the woods was having a Nuzlocke battle, I kept him in this pokéball just to be sure he wasn't attacked or anything like that."

"A-ah, yeah you caught me there. Whoops!" She chuckled a bit, glancing over to the pokéball, frowning. " E-eh, a Nuzlocke battle?! Was it underground, o-or? "

"Nah," I shook my head and smirked. "The idiots running the damn thing didn't even close off the area." My face became more somber "Seriously, though, Nuzlocke challenges are the lowest form of human ent-" I said before my cold sesame soba topped with natto (my favorite) arrived.

Mimi watched as hers was placed too, still frowning as she picked up the chopsticks placed beside it. "I understand. I'd rather shut that down. If they weren't using the necessary precautions, then they aren't following the rules, right? Plus, Nuzlocke's are stupid. Really stupid." She began stuffing her face with yakisoba, slightly frustrated.

My face partially stuffed with food, I nodded her head in agreement. When my mouth was clear, I asked "So, anything exciting going on at the police station?" I then continued to stuff my face with the slightly smelly noodles she ordered.

She swallowed, scrunching up her face in thought. "Yeah, actually. You better not tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, though. I'd get fired- or sent to jail myself." She got in closer, looking around before whispering. "I heard from a higher up, of a higher up, that there's some kind of new pokéball being developed. Rumor says that it's way different. But that's all I really know thus far."

It took a while for me to process what she said, but I was surprised after it sunk in. "Wait, what?" I nearly shouted in disbelief.

"Shush!" Mimi flailed her arms out, frowning.

"Sorry," I said at a much lower volume. After looking around and making sure no one was listening again, I whispered, "What kind of pokéball?"

"I'm not sure, they said it was different then all the pokéballs, even the master ball. So maybe it does something else?" She whispered again, shrugging. She ate the rest of her Soba, smiling contently.

I took another bite of my noodles to calm myself down, then I whispered again once my mouth was clear. "Why would the police need pokéballs? It's our job to handle pokémon, so what else would they be for?"

"It's not really us… per se… but… more like… the government." She drawled out her sentence, thinking as she spoke, slightly uncertain. She was still whispering. "But, tell you this. I can kind of answer that question in a few days' time. But, you have to tell no one." She made an 'x' with her hands. I set down my chopsticks and touched two of my fingers on my lips and then to my heart, i.e., my own personal way of agreeing with her promise. Mimi nodded, sighing before smirking mischievously. "I'll try to get some evidence, though. No one would suspect anything." She snickered quietly.

"You better tell me," I said a little louder, but quickly shoved the last of my food into my mouth to calm myself down again.

"You're the only person I would trust enough to tell. This is serious." Mimi nodded, setting her hands down onto the table.

I smiled and nodded. Then, as I called the Matsuda over and asked for the bill, a thought occurred to me. "Speaking of that, I bet butthead misses you," I chimed, reaching for my pokéball.

"I bet butthead does," she giggled back. "I bet he thinks his name is Butthead now. Poor little guy."

"Funny. That's exactly what Sasuke said," I chuckled as I released Trooper from his pokéball. He stretched and let out a little sound. "Upa," he said, then lightly squirted a jet of water onto Mimi's cheek.

"It's s-super effective!" Mimi squealed trying to avoid the water. "Ah yeah. How are your friends? I haven't seen them since forever. "

"Well," I chuckled, "I don't think Sasuke is very happy with me. I actually missed one of his anti-pokémon battle protests to watch the semifinals in the pokémon contest.

"Ooh, Sasuke is kind of the fiery type, eh?" she responded.

"And Haruka is ok, too. She recently organized a group of anthropokemorph fans. I'm kind of excited about that!"

"Oh, it does sound exciting. It's a bummer that I work all day. I almost have no time to do anything." She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"That's a shame," I shrugged. Soon, the bill came. "Well, Mimi, I should probably get going. I was scheduled to work early tomorrow, so I need a good night's sleep." I stood and returned Trooper to his pokéball and left my meal's worth of money.

"Alright, it was really nice talking with you, Call me up if there's trouble. I'll make sure to check out the Nuzlocke before I head home." She stood up as well, paying for her side of the bill. I parted ways with Mimi friend for the night, but not before giving her hugs. On my walk home, one thought haunted my mind. _What would the government need pokéballs for?_ It made no sense for them to have them. Shortly after, I started to think, _what if the pokéballs weren't made for pokémon? _Shortly after, the thought was dismissed because the only thing someone would really want to catch in a pokéball was people, and that just sounded absurd. After a few more minutes of thought, I decided that the best theory was that they were just balls from a different colored apricorn made to look differently from other pokéballs so that no one could steal them.

When I got to the apartment complex, the man that was playing his guitar earlier was no longer there. I checked the time on my phone; it was about nine o'clock. Around then, he was most likely sleeping on a folded-out cardboard box at the side of the building. I went up the stairs to my room and opened the door.

As I entered, I slipped off my shoes, released Trooper, and went to the bathtub to draw myself a relaxing bath. While I showered my body clean, my mind began to think about the mysterious pokéballs. As I sat and soaked up the warm water, the thought invaded my mind again. Though my mind had long since theorized that nothing was out of the ordinary, something much stronger inside of me knew that nothing is as it seems.

My mind had another bad feeling. I knew I wasn't going to rest easy until I found out.


End file.
